Jeffrey "Williford." Dahmer clone. The fun one. |
mun 18+. indie based on Geoffrey Girard's Project Cain and Cain's Blood #deadlydahmer
brother blog Blog contains disturbing themes.
❝ I hope so, ❞ CJ said, as he looked down at the shirt in question. He was just so used to wearing r e d . Thanks to his mother, that was almost all he ever wore. ❝ Thanks, man. ❞
Look at you CJ! You actually remembered that you aren’t supposed to know everyone.
"Sure.“ He shrugged, illustrating that it was no big deal. And it wasn’t, especially considering his opinion probably wasn’t one people asked for very often. "You got somewhere to be or something?”
george was not, by any means, a fan of human foods. not anymore, at least. it did nothing for him not that he could spill his little secret to a near-enough stranger. and george couldn’t be rude about it, oh no. but he’ll find a way to compromise. rolling onto his side, one arm now holding the sheet close to himself, the vampire nods, as best he could, lips twitching just ever so slightly.
❝i’m really not that hungry. i could, however, do with a drink. a cup of tea or something?❞
"Oh, you’re one of those,“ Jeff jokingly responded, referring to the type of people that tend to skip breakfast altogether; the most important meal of the day, and all that. Jeff was always starving when he woke up. He let out a chuckle as he sat up, but nodded his approval. "I may or may not have tea. But we’ll see, I guess. Here’s hopin’.” With that, he found a pair of shorts to step into and shuffled towards his little kitchen.
sarcasm, through and through. in reality, george isn’t opposed to the idea. the day’s free, and the company is kind. eyes that catch the suns rays stare into jeff’s, a soft, slow, blink momentarily breaking the sight. a hand is risen to george’s face, his index finger rubbing at his nose and top lip. an amused snort is given at the question, whilst george settles his head back onto a pillow.
❝eat? i don’t think it’d be fair to overstay my welcome, nor abuse your hospitality.❞
Jeff returned the smile and sat up, propping himself up with an elbow. He used his free hand to brush some stray locks of hair from his face before shaking his head. “C'mon, it’s fine. Really.” As much as he hated to be one to plead, the rest of his day was looking pretty bleak once this guy walked out the door. He had to at least attempt to make it last. “What would you like?”
❝oh you’re awake. and here i hoped to get out before you noticed.❞
a murmur, sheets loosely draped over his torso, arm situated just behind his head. clothes remain littered on the floor, not that he cares; much at least. dark brows rise, a flick, at the other male, lips pursed. how rude of him, to still be in bed. but george here is comfy, and there’s no signs of him moving yet.
"Nah; it looks like you’re stuck here.“ Jeff’s voice was groggy with the last remnants of sleep even though he’d been awake for a while. He blinked, and ran a hand over his face, wiping away any remaining tiredness–a difficult feat. "How about something to eat, at least?” It’d be a shame to see his guest leave so suddenly.
